The Death of a Hero
by Starpenmusic
Summary: Harry Potter is nothing without loss. Without pain. And most importantly the loss of the ones he holds dear. Here are some various glimpse of character deaths through out the series in the Hogwarts world.
1. Ginny Weasly

**A/N: So, I have decided to open up this story for others to add to. Simply message me the story and I'll go over it and most likely add it to the collection. The only requirement is that they are from Harry Potter and deal with the death of a character. Let's see how big we can get this!**

My world was crumbling. We had fought so hard to get here, and it couldn't be over now. Yet there he was, laying listlessly in the arms of the shaking giant. He was the boy who _lived,_ not the boy who _died._ This couldn't be happening. The world slowed into a painful blur, where the tears blocked the view of the corpse of my love. I screamed his name hoarsely, but he didn't move. He would never move again. Please God, let this be a dream. But like so many things in my upside world full of magic, nothing happened. He was dead. He was with so many others. His parents. His family. His mentor. Even my own brother. He wasn't with me though. Was it selfish to wish him back into a world where he had been bred to die? He had been saved to save all. I needed him. Without the touch of his lingering hand on the small of my back or the feel of his dry lips against mine I would wilt into something as cold and stiff as he was now. They were holding me back, hands as sharp as knifes against my cold skin. Why couldn't they let me be? They didn't understand. No one would understand. All around I saw shocked faces, broken hearts and tear stained cheeks. But none of them felt my pain. Not Ron, not Hermione and certainly not anyone else. I had loved him before I knew him, had imagined running my fingertips over his lightning print scar until it was smooth. We had gone too far to suffer defeat like this. How could he have left us like this? It wasn't fair and it wasn't right. He had checked out to a better place, leaving me breathless on the plane terminal with a ticket in hand. The snake like man laughed. He knew what this meant, how broken we were without him. And it made the Dark Lord immensely happy. Every nerve within me screamed to kill him, to avenge the death of the boy with the mop of unruly black hair and circular glasses. But I couldn't. This war was over and Voldemort had won. All because of the death of Harry Potter love of one Ginny Weasley.


	2. George Weasly

I was missing half of me. Have you ever woken up in the morning and in a moment of grogginess felt like you were missing something essential? That feeling now hovered around me permanently, a sharp reminder of how much I had lost. Even in my loneliest moments, I was never truly alone. I was always able to rely that my other half was nearby, walking around with an identical face and the only true understanding of who I was as a person. He was my brother, my twin. We had been together since the womb, kicking and bothering my mom for our entire lives. He put the spark into a normal day, and even if he hadn't been a wizard he still would have made things magical. We were trouble makers, but he was the one with the outgoing personality and the people drawing persona. The connection we shared was real, always alive and buzzing with schemes and new ideas. Now it was dead. Dry and shriveled up just like his body would be in a few years. Yes, he had left many people who had loved him, but no one other than me had known just who he was. How little things had caused his face to light up or his mood to become cheerier. And that was the way we liked it. Whether we were at Hogwarts or at our joke shop, my brother was dependable. Dependable and loyal. He didn't deserve to die. He didn't deserve to have his life taken so unjustly in a war that he hadn't even started. Yet I knew he wouldn't want me filled with regret, missing his absence. That didn't make it hurt any less though. My twin had gone somewhere that I couldn't as long as I was alive. My mother would look at me with hollowed eyes, my father with a grimace. When they saw me, they saw him. My parents saw my cloud of red hair as his, and the face of his sculpted over mine. So they drew away from anything that would remind them of him. Even me. But I needed them more than ever. He was my bloody twin; the pain on a daily basis was too intense to bear alone. Yet I had too. They didn't want to wake up and see their dead sons look alike floating through the house in a pained haze. Because without Fred Weasley around, I was only half the person I had been. Not even the pain of losing my ear amounted to what I felt now. Why couldn't I at least have a sign? Something that would let me know that my twin was in a better place. But nothing came. It seems that in death, Fred Weasley has forgotten about me, his once twin George.


	3. Bellatrix Lestrange

**Star is currently not in the possesion of the Harry Potter World or anything involving it.**

* * *

><p><em>In this case, it is not Death of a Hero, but Death of a Villain.<em>

There was no one to weep over her. No one spoke a word over shame over her demise. Was it nobody cared? Had she spent her life up until her dying breath fighting for the wrong team? Perhaps it was so. The curse did its duty as the life drained from her once adrenaline filled body, leaving a husk of the woman who had once been there. The eyes that had once been chalked full of insanity and desperation were now flat discs, staring blankly at the war she had died fighting. The corpse would receive no special treatment, no burial or intimate ceremony. She had been just another pawn in the war anyways, fighting for her master and serving as obediently as a slave. Which she had become. There was no will or joy. Only an intense craving to be needed, to be satisfying. If it meant killing, then she would have killed every person in her sights, innocent or not. But had it given her pleasure? It had seemed too, but no one had asked to verify the assumption. Now she was just another body lying on the grounds of Hogwarts and nobody would ever know for certain. Was she evil? What was evil truly? Many people said she had been vile, low and disgusting. Trash. Is that what evil made you? So many unanswered questions, yet the dead woman would never be able to answer any of them. Many people felt victory over her death, as if the loved ones she killed had come to rest in peace. One boy with unruly black hair and a lightning bolt scar couldn't help but feel a jolt of relief in his gut over the Godfather he had lost to her years before. Yet she wouldn't know how relieving her death was, only that her life had been no longer than a blink in the spectrum of things. How things she had done, good and bad had helped mount up to the final outcome. Only one thing was for certain, not even her own family would mourn the death of Bellatrix Lestrange.


	4. Chapter 4

Hey all, so basically I decided that since this piece is a collection of short clips that it would be interesting if people would send in THEIR pieces. All it has to be is a short piece, one shot preferred but not necessary, about a death in the Harry Potter word. Any book, anything. So, contact me if you would like to have a piece put in the collection. .

Thanks,

Star


End file.
